


pumpkin spiced

by ndnickerson



Category: Nancy Drew - Carolyn Keene
Genre: Background Slash, Coitus Interruptus, Established Relationship, F/M, Halloween, Haunted Houses, Innuendo, October, Romance, fall - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 11:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21207686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ndnickerson/pseuds/ndnickerson
Summary: Nancy, Bess, and George head to Emerson to see Ned at Halloween. The trip doesn't quite go as any of them planned.





	pumpkin spiced

"Finally!" Bess spread her arms, as though embracing the crisp October afternoon, the fringe at the edge of her orange-and-purple-striped scarf fluttering in the breeze as she held her first pumpkin-spice latte of the season aloft. Clusters of students were gathered on the patio just outside the campus coffee shop, conferring over tablets and notebooks. "God, it _finally_ feels like fall."

George took a sip of her hot green tea and grinned. "Perfect bike weather."

Nancy hung back, watching Bess roll her eyes at her cousin in a gesture Nancy herself could mimic at will. She was grateful that her best friends were willing to visit Emerson with her so often. After all, they didn't quite have the same motivation she did.

And that motivation wrapped his arms around her from behind, and Nancy closed her eyes as she felt his breath against her temple. Her apple cider, capped in a swirl of whipped cream and faintly dusted with cinnamon, was in his right hand, and she pressed a kiss against Ned's jaw before wrapping her own fingers around the cup.

"Sorry. The barista handed me some soy monstrosity." Ned gave a theatrical shudder that brushed his body against hers in a way that left _her_ shivering, too. He took a sip of his own drink.

"Surely you don't buy that garbage about soy making you less of a man."

"It wasn't the soy I objected to; it was the fake sugar." Nancy turned to look up into his eyes, and Ned schooled his expression into something suitably angelic. "I can't put strange chemicals in my body. What would Coach say?"

Nancy dissolved into laughter. "My sweet, delicate quarterback. Your body is a temple, huh."

Ned gave her a little bow. She saw answering laughter in his eyes. "I would give you some line about worshipping..."

"Later." It wasn't that Bess or George would be all that scandalized, just impatient to get to other things—and, since Bess was between boyfriends, other guys.

Ned's eyes glowed at her response. "I—"

"Hey!" Bess was gesturing the two of them toward a kiosk papered with fluttering, weather-curled flyers. "Check this out!"

Ned took Nancy's hand in his as they joined her. George had her phone out and was peering at the small screen.

Ned groaned as he read the flyer. "It's lame," he protested.

"It sounds like fun!"

Nancy stepped closer and studied the flyer. The face of it was nearly all black, and had been posted recently enough that the ink hadn't begun to run from rain. _Sig Delt Dungeon of Doom! Enter if you dare!_ The letters of the first phrase were squiggled, as though shivering in fright, capping a grunge-gothic graphic. Some grotesque zombie art finished the invitation.

"Uh, a few years ago..."

"'Sigma Delta fraternity ran their version of a haunted house behind their fraternity house two years ago,'" George read aloud from her phone screen. "'Two visitors were injured when an improperly constructed platform collapsed. _Three_ visitors reported "missing time" after drinking from the dry-ice wreathed punch bowl.'" She glanced up, then scrolled a bit. "The implication is that the punch was spiked with something more than bottom-shelf vodka."

Ned nodded, releasing a sigh. "This is kind of their redemption attempt, and I feel bad for them, kind of. But I wouldn't recommend going."

Nancy raised an eyebrow. "You think they wouldn't do everything they could to keep it safe and aboveboard this year?"

Ned paused for a beat. "I think they _would_," he replied. "But what if it wasn't enough?"

\--

Howie's mouth dropped open. So at least that was a little gratifying.

"They're here, aren't they."

Howie hooked a thumb over his shoulder in a wordless gesture toward the stairs, his gaze still locked to them.

"You're about to spill your drink," George pointed out, her tone almost serene. Howie righted the tilting red Solo cup and managed to close his mouth, though his eyes were still wide.

Bess glanced at her cousin as they headed toward the stairs. The railing was decorated with faux cobwebs and black plastic spiders. "Call it. Scrunchie on the doorknob?"

George snorted. "This is a frat house. Sock."

As it turned out, both of them were wrong. Beside each bedroom door, a small whiteboard for scrawled messages had been mounted. A miniature jack-o-lantern illustration beamed its gap-toothed smile from the corner. That wasn't what drew the eye, though.

A single sheet of lined paper had been ripped out of a spiral-bound notebook, and still bore the jagged edge. On it, Ned had taken a chisel-tipped black felt marker and written a single word in tall, emphatic letters: **_NO._**

From the other side of the door, they could hear laughter.

George flicked the edge of the sheet with her finger. It was fastened to the door with black electrical tape, of all things.

Bess raised her hand and pounded her fist on the door three times.

The laughter stopped, and they could hear whispering.

"Nancy—" George called.

"Benedict-Arnold," Bess stage-whispered as a suggestion.

"—Drew," George finished, snickering at her cousin. "We know you're in there."

After thirty more seconds and some shuffling, the door swung open. Nancy stood there, the color high in her cheeks. She had clearly just thrown on one of Ned's Emerson t-shirts; the hem hit her at mid-thigh and swallowed her slender frame, and her hair was mussed. Ned was in his bed, the comforter pulled up to his waist, his chest bare. While Nancy's expression was initially apologetic, Ned's wasn't at all. It was somewhere between proud and impatient.

At the sight of them, Nancy's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. "Holy—_what?_"

Bess raised a warning finger. "Don't. Even."

"Are you all right?" Her gaze flew between the two of them.

"Oh, so you're concerned _now_? And what was it exactly that you needed to help Ned 'study' so much?" Bess brought her hands up to curl her fingers into air quotes, and a massive drop of viscous green slime fell onto the carpet just outside Ned's room. "Human anatomy?"

George snickered.

Ned was doing some maneuvering under his comforter, and emerged wearing sweatpants. "_Please _tell me you two didn't hit that haunted house."

"Not _that_ one," George said, pulling her black tank top away from her chest and grimacing as the fabric tried to stick. "At this point, I think I would've preferred that one."

\--

"And Parker's..."

"He stayed behind to give his statement. They have our numbers. I'm sure we'll be hearing from the cops soon."

Ned shook his head as he listened to the conversation behind him, leading his bedraggled entourage down the hall. Bess's once-trendy outfit was now streaked with slime, grainy watermelon pulp, and something he hoped was ammonia. George had fared just as badly, and her sandals squished with every step. Bits of green silly string were still clinging to her short, dark hair. Nancy had listened to the cousins pour out their insane story as they walked, and just shook his head again. Hopefully the Tau Alpha house wouldn't ever try to outdo Sigma Delta again. Or, at least, they might opt for fewer watermelons.

And at least Parker would likely have an interesting story go along with what George described as an "almost certainly" sprained ankle. Bess had snapped a photo of an EMT painstakingly removing shards of fake zombie teeth from the wound.

Ned stopped in front of the appropriate door and smirked. A glittery cartoon dolphin keychain, looped around a hair elastic, was hanging from the doorknob. He could hear faint giggling from behind the door, and winced.

"Oh my God. I hope that's not a euphemism," George groaned.

Ned tapped on the door three times. The giggling stopped. Ned started counting in his head as he took a step back, waiting for the—ah, yes, the quiet click of the doorknob lock, and then the door opened a few inches.

"Yeah?"

Behind him, Ned heard someone—Bess, most likely—gasp in a breath.

Michael was flawless. Blond and blue-eyed, he looked like a WASP fantasy come to life, and he wore only a pair of navy briefs, so not much of that fantasy was left to anyone's imagination. He was tall, square-jawed, and incredibly gorgeous. He was also Omega's president this year, which was the only reason Ned had the strength to interrupt.

A loud sigh erupted from behind Michael. "I guess I need to come up with something more aggressive than a glittery dolphin," the voice continued.

"I know, right?" Ned replied, as Michael stepped back a bit. The man in the bed gave a little wave; the comforter was pulled up to his bare chest, and the golden glow of the desk lamp played over his aqua-tipped hair. Michael looked like a prom king, but Les had the lean build of a runner, along with a killer smirk. "I tried just putting the word 'No' on the door, and _that_ didn't even work. Hey, Les."

Les grinned.

Bess gasped loudly. "Oh my God, are you—" She said something that Ned heard as "elfwink," but he wasn't sure.

Les gave a little bow of his head with an elaborate flourish.

Bess gave a triumphant cry. "Your winged eyeliner tutorial saved my _life,_" she gushed.

Ned and Michael exchanged a look, as Michael ran his hand through his hair. "Need the key to the VIP suite," Ned said. He hooked his thumb over his shoulder. "It was that or a fire hose..."

Michael sighed. "Yeah. Hang on."

He leaned over to dig around in a backpack, and Ned heard something thud quietly behind him. He glanced back and saw George fanning herself, and met Nancy's eyes. They were sparkling, and focused on him, not Michael.

Ned hadn't known he could be _more_ impatient to get back to his room.

"I'll clean it up after," Ned promised, as Michael handed him the key and Nancy tugged gingerly at Bess's slime-drenched sleeve, encouraging her to leave Michael and Les alone.

Michael snorted. "Tell Asher to do it," he replied. "After that crap he pulled last week..."

"Nice. Thanks again." Ned glanced over. "Bye, Les."

"Bye, sweetheart." Les gave them a wink. "Girl, don't forget to DM me."

"Oh my _God_!" Bess said, as they headed toward the stairs. "He's so... wow."

"I know," George said, fanning herself again. "I have the absolute _worst_ luck."

Nancy patted her shoulder. "It's all right. Once they get that cloning program off the ground Bess is always talking about..."

Ned snorted. "Which would result in a _baby_. So that's creepy."

Bess attempted to toss her hair. Ned somehow managed not to laugh. Her hair was a matted, awful mess. "No, I meant, like, science-fiction clone, not _real _clone. Just like you. Same age and everything. Not pedophilia or whatever."

Ned shook his head. "Even if I _did_ have a clone, that clone would probably be in love with Nancy, too." Then he tilted his head. "Now that's a thought. Having to fight myself over you."

"A win-win," Nancy replied, her eyes sparkling again.

"Please. You're making it creepier," George groaned.

After the cousins were safely locked into the VIP suite for the night—Bess was groaning in relief as she ducked into the palatial shower, before Nancy and Ned had even left—Ned slid his arm around Nancy's waist and guided her back toward the stairs.

"Not that I'm not enjoying seeing all those miles of leg on display, but aren't you cold?"

Nancy grinned. "I would be, but the thought of another mystery has warmed me right up. I think that sounds like sabotage, don't you? Maybe a rival fraternity, or someone out for revenge..."

Ned growled and tossed Nancy over his shoulder, pounding up the stairs as she laughed in delight. "We were in the middle of something," he pointed out.

"Oh, were we? What was it Bess said, an anatomy lesson?"

"I think we're past that now."

"What's next on the lesson plan, Nickerson?"

"Psychology." He gently lowered her to her feet and took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. "Interpersonal dynamics."

"Oh, yeah. I think my teacher referred to that as 'intercourse.'"

Ned grinned as he opened his door and ushered her inside. "Well. Who am I to contradict your teacher?"

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally published elsewhere; if you enjoyed it, please consider leaving feedback. Happy fall!


End file.
